Tag: reading

What’s In and What’s Out: Summer 2025 Edition (*but also just do what you want)

Elizabeth Harrell2 Comments

It’s time for my annual “What’s In / What’s Out” list — otherwise known as: a user manual for how I’m living this summer, until further notice.

Also just kidding, it’s not annual. I’ve never done one before. But the other day I realized I’d seen at least a dozen internet-things (spanning from articles to Instagram to TikTok) about what we all should or should not being doing. Apparently, gallery wall decorating is “out” and that sent me straight into outrage-land. Gallery walls, and more importantly, weird art, can never be out. Show me one minimalist beige influencer whose house wouldn’t be improved by a framed picture of a Victorian lady and her pet duck.

So, I decided to make my own list. And this list is for me. Not you. You can have your own list and do absolutely whatever you want. You can decorate your house in Chevron patterns that make my eyes cross, and I will applaud you. We get one life, one body, one family, maybe a couple of houses, and only a few summers. Make it count. So, here’s what’s in and out for me, this summer. Take what you want, leave what you don’t. Your mileage may vary. But please promise me that if you hang a picture of a woman and a duck, you’ll post it.

IN

  • Inspecting my garden first thing every morning with a cup of coffee while wearing a mumu. 20 years ago I would have done the same thing while smoking a Marlboro Light, but not now because I choose life. Anyway, hot girl summer is now hot flash summer. I garden how I want.
  • Reading books based on vibes, not virtue. If you’re looking for me, I’ll be re-reading Valley of the Dolls that was 50 cents at Goodwill. I will not be reading anything literary. I tried that and chose Rabbit, Run which is basically just 300 pages about a man having a midlife crisis in Pennsylvania. No can do. I want to be shocked by Jacqueline Susann or scared by Stephen King. This summer will not be a literary-growth phase.
  • Texts responses are reserved for business hours only. If you text me before 7 a.m. or after 10 p.m., I assume it’s either an emergency or you’ve lost your mind.
  • Saying “Let me think about that” instead of yes or no. The official fragrance of 2025 is called Buy Me Some Time and my brain needs more than 10 seconds to make a decision. Whether it’s a lunch invite or a heavy-duty-job decision, the neurological-synapse-turnaround-time in my noggin needs a buffer.
  • Making weird little snack plates for dinner. Brie, pretzel chips, olives, one pickle, four grapes, three almonds. #chefskiss
  • Recharging, even in a crowd. I am an introvert. I am never alone. This past weekend I told my family to stay out of the kitchen for one hour. I said, “I’m going to make meatloaf, so pretend I’m a ghost and do not perceive me.” I cooked meatloaf and listened to Sierra Farrell and did not speak for a solid hour and I felt reborn.

OUT

  • Organizing books by color. I will never remember that the book I’m trying to find has a red spine, but I will be able to find it if I’ve organized by genre, as god intended.  #tellmeyoudontreadalotwithouttellingmeyoudontreadalot
  • Five-step skincare routines. If moisturizer, SPF, and a pair of tweezers don’t cover it, it doesn’t need to be covered. I earned this face. I’m a human with pores, not a glazed donut.
  • Forced gratitude. Sometimes life is weird, unfair, and messy. I can be grateful and mildly annoyed at the same time. Yes, I adore my children. I am endlessly grateful for them. But if one more person leaves a single square of toilet paper on the roll like it’s a decorative art installation, I might lose it.
  • Apologizing for ghosting group texts. Sometimes I read a message, think “huh,” and then walk directly into the sea. Just kidding. But when you have ADHD you can only be on the receiving end of so much communication, and sometimes the meme-exchanges don’t hold the same urgency as feeding the dog, renewing a prescription, or remembering to say something kind to my husband that doesn’t sound like “why does the trash smell?”
  • “Beach body” talk. If you have a body and you’re at the beach, you’ve solved the puzzle. Congratuations.

That’s my highly scientific, deeply researched list. I hope you still do whatever makes you happiest this summer, whether that’s gallery walls, chevron, snack plates, glazed-donut skin, or not. Just remember: one life, a few summers. I hope you make yours exactly what you want it to be.

Slumps and Thrifting

Elizabeth HarrellLeave a comment

What do you do when you hit a slump? Slump can mean many things. It can mean a dead-zone in your creative life. It can mean delays in your career. It can mean boredom or stagnation in your personal life. We all hit a slump periodically, but what can you do about it?

We have the always-present options of doom-scrolling. Or eating too much. Or binge watching Netflix until it insults us by asking if we are still watching as we scramble to find the remote to assure it that “YES I AM STILL HERE AND COMMITTED TO FINISHING THIS TRUE CRIME SERIES TODAY” as we also find a spare Cheeto on the couch and pop it into our mouth. Wait, there’s no we in that sentence? That’s just me? Well never mind forget that example.

And while meditation, therapy, or taking a walk are timeless choices, I’d like to suggest my favorite slump-defeater: thrifting. Flea markets, antique stores and Goodwill are my go-to choices, my way of shouting “PARKOUR!” and vaulting over a slump and back into a place where I can find inspiration and humor and weird stuff.

When you find a porcelain doll head in a Ziploc bag labeled “make offer” you’ll have so many questions you’ll forget about your creative slump.

You will always crack a smile when you find an apron that says “Kiss the Cook, She has Legal Custody Now” and your career worries won’t feel so heavy.

Whether it’s a taxidermy cat, a set of dentures mounted on a plaque, a motivational poster with a dolphin that reads “Don’t Cry. The FBI is Watching” or a painting that could easily be Elvis or Jesus depending on the angle, you will always feel better. You will always feel like laughing. And you will feel curious, if not a little befuddled. And laughter + curiosity = slump-buster.

I found this book at one of my local thrift stores. I have not started reading it yet, but I will soon. Because when I saw this title all I could think was, “Bold of you to think you’ve locked this topic down, Mr. Charlie Shedo, let’s hear what you have to say about how to treat the ladies.” Once again, thrifting shifted me out of “I have nothing to write slump mode” and into curiosity. When you call yourself a “storehouse of marriage wisdom” you’re just begging to get a critique. And that critique will happen later on my back patio, with a Coke Zero, and zero creative slumps in sight.

So if you’re in a slump, or you’re just having a very Monday-ish Tuesday, I recommend venturing to your local goodwill on your lunch break. You might find a dog sweater that reads “Ask me about my trauma.” Or a VHS tape labeled “Linda’s fourth wedding.” Or a ceramic goose dressed as a nun. You will probably buy that vintage spoon rest shaped like a foot. A realistic foot. With veins.

Whatever you find, it will distract. It will inspire. It will help you laugh.
Slump? What slump?